A few kind readers have noticed the dearth of postings during these summer months. As I sit on a stalled train on today’s gnarled up commute, it’s time to rectify the matter. I’m not quite able to point to reasons for my lack of writing, a pursuit I enjoy. Is it that I have not had one Creative Thought in recent weeks, or that I’ve been on a mental vacation and missed that memo? Did the wedding of my oldest in Denver leave me without a starting point, OR could it just possibly be that, indeed, my writing is dependent on my walking the dog on the marsh, a task done most summer days by my other (yes, better) half?? Egad!
Last week I began a mind blog while studying the morning glories which wrap themselves up the fence at the train station I most frequent, code name Buckaroos. Although the entrance to the platform requires passage between two large odoriferous dumpsters, once at the edge, one can’t miss the beautiful blue flowers that twine up the fence from most unpromising looking vines. The vine leaves are not full or green; the vine itself is quite thin and brown. All told, the assembly looks unable to support itself, much less a full trumpet flower. Yet it does. Some vines reach the lowest cedar tree branches just above the top fence line and sport trumpets there. But whether low or high, these flowers arrest the eye that takes a moment to appreciate the energy required and given, even if the glory lasts only one morning.
Cheese and crackers, on the other hand, don’t have much glory about them, but they came up in conversation about this humble blog only yesterday. Numerous times even this weekend, two saltines and a hunk of cheddar formed a tea time snack, my lunch-on-the-run, or a pre-dinner, tide-me-over, vegetable chopping boost. “We don’t always have to have a gourmet meal,” said my friend. “Sometimes cheese and crackers will do.” So in that spirit, the spirit of cheese and crackers, it’s time to write again about the small things I see along the tracks in life. It’s Monday, and it’s a glorious morning, even out the slowly moving train window.